KCCOY 

funeral  Oration  on  the 
Death  of  Hon.  Daniel  Webster. 


E 

340 

W4 
M26 


FUNERAL  ORATION 


OX  THE  DKATH  OF 


HON.  DANIEL  WEBSTER, 


AMASA   McCOY. 


LETTERS  FROM  DISTINGUISHED  SOURCES 

IN  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  DEATH  OF  HON.  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


[From  Hon.  John  K.  Porter.] 

ALBANY,  Nov.  20,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  just  finished  a  second  reading  of  your  Funeral 
Oration  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  and  cannot  refrain  from  congratu- 
lating you  on  the  masterly  ability  which  characterizes  the  production. 
I  have  read  it  with  more  gratification  than  any  of  the  other  numerous 
addresses  which  have  been  occasioned  by  his  death.  It  seems  to  me  to  be 
in  entire  accordance  with  his  own  views  of  his  claims  upon  the  present  and 
after  times.  It  speaks  bodly,  what  he  felt  deeply — the  truth  that  his 
countrymen  in  refusing  to  requite  his  services  by  elevating  him  to  the 
first  office  in  the  government,  were  equally  unjust  to  him  and  to  them- 
selves. It  does  justice  to  his  character  and  position.  It  speaks  of  him 
as  he  should  be  spoken  of  in  history,  and  this  with  a  beauty  and  eloquence, 
which  cannot  fail  to  make  it  peculiarly  acceptable  to  the  friends  of  Mr. 
Webster. 

If  the  Oration  should  be  published  in  pamphlet  form,  may  I  ask  you  to 
favor  me  with  a  copy.  Yours  very  truly, 

Prof.  AMASA  McCoY.  JOHN  K.  PORTER. 

[From  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  Kip.] 

ALBANY,  Nov.  23, 1852. 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  received  yesterday  a  number  of  the  New-York  Express, 
containing  your  Funeral  Oration  on  the  death  of  Daniel  Webster;  for 
which  attention  I  suppose  I  am  indebted  to  you.  I  avail  myself  there- 
fore of  ao  early  opportunity  to  thank  you  for  it,  and  express  the  pleasure 
which  it  afforded  me.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  I  consider  it 
the  most  able  I  have  seen  on  this  event;  and  well  worthy  of  the  com- 
mendation bestowed  upon  it  by  the  editor  of  the  Express.  Your  estimate 
of  WEBSTER'S  character  and  writings  strikes  me  as  being  peculiarly 
felicitous. 

With  my  best  wishes  for  your  success  in  your  literary  career,  I  remain 

Yours,  very  respectfully, 
Prof.  McCoY.  W.  INGRAHAM  KIP. 

[From  President  Fillmore.] 

WASHINGTON,  Nov.  24th,  1852. 

SIR  :  I  had  the  honor  to  receive  your  note  of  the  16th  inst.,  accompanied 
by  a  copy  of  your  eulogy  upon  the  late  Daniel  Webster,  for  which  I  beg 
leave  to  return  you  my  thanks.  My  time  has  been  so  much  occupied, 
that  I  have  only  been  able  to  peruse  a  few  paragraphs,  with  which  I  have 
been  much  pleased;  and  I  doubt  not  you  have  done  the  subject  ample 
justice.  Respectfully  yours, 

MILLARD  FILLMORE. 

[From  Hon.  Edward  Everett-] 

DEPARTMENT  OP  STATE,  Nov.  29,  1852. 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  received  to  day  your  favor  of  the  26th,  with  the  copy 
of  your  Oration  which  accompanied  it.  I  am  greatly  indebted  to  you  for 
giving  me  the  opportunity  of  reading  it  in  a  corrected  form.  I  have  given  it 
a  hasty  perusal,  but  amidst  such  incessant  interruptions,  and  such  pre- 
occupation, that  I  have  not  done  justice  to  myself  in  reading  it.  I  have 
laid  it  carefully  by  for  a  leisure  hour,  with  the  sure  promise  of  a  rich 
intellectual  treat.  What  I  have  read,  sufficiently  shows  me,  that  you 
have  entered  deeply  into  the  great  theme- 
Be  pleased  to  accept  my  thanks  for  the  kindness  of  your  personal 
allusions,  and  believe  me,  with  much  regard, 

Very  respectfully,  yours, 

EDWARD  EVERETT. 
Prof.  AMASA  McCoY,  National  Law  School, 
Ballston  Spa,  N.  Y. 


[From  the  Same.] 

BOSTON,  1  Dec.,  1855. 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  a  copy  of  your  admirable 
eulogy  on  Mr.  Webster ;  and  for  giving  me  an  opportunity  of  re-perusing, 
in  a  revised  form,  what  afforded  me  so  much  pleasure  at  its  first  appear- 
ance.       •        •*»*«» 
I  remain,  dear  sir,  with  much  consideration, 

Very  truly,  yours, 
Prof.  McCor,  Albany,  N.  Y.  EDWARD  EVERETT. 

[From  the  family  of  the  late  Hon.  Jeremiah  Mason.] 

BOSTON,  Nov.  25th,  1852. 

DEAR  SIR  :  The  pleasure  our  family  circle  (that  of  the  late  Jeremiah 
Mason — Mr.  Webster's  early  friend)  have  received  this  evening,  while 
listening  to  an  address  of  yours,  delivered  at  the  church  in  Ballston  Spa, 
on  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  induces  me  to  write  to  you  to  ask  if  the 
address  has  been  published  in  pamphlet,  and  where  we  can  obtain  a  num- 
ber of  copies. 

Your  eloquent  and  warm-hearted  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one  who 
from  infancy  I  have  loved  and  revered,  is  my  only  apology  for  thus 
troubling  you.  With  much  respect, 

MARIANNE  MASON  CRAFTS. 
Prof.  AMASA  McCoY,  Ballston  Spa. 

[From  the  Same.] 

BOSTON,  Jan.  3d,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  sent  you  by  the  mail,  several  copies  of  your 
address  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  Mr. 
Samuel  Lawrence,  who  was  so  much  interested  in  it,  that  he  had  it  printed 
in  pamphlet  form.  I  notice  several  errors  in  it,  but  the  imperfect  news- 
paper report  will  account  for  that. 

I  am  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  sending  a  tribute  so  just  and  pleasant 
to  friends  at  a  distance.  We  have  pleasant  memories  of  the  past  summer, 
having  been  three  times  at  Marshfield.  and  seen  Mr.  Webster  in  the  home 
he  loved  so  well.  You  admired  the  great  man  for  his  public  acts,  and  so 
do  I ;  but  I  cannot  remember  the  time  I  did  not  love  him  as  my  father's 
early  and  constant  friend — a  friendship  over  which  for  thirty  years  never 
passed  a  cloud.  Believe  me,  respectfully  yours, 

MARIANNE  MASON  CRAFTS. 

A.  McCoY,  Esq.,  Ballston  Spa,  N.  Y. 

[From  Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers.] 

NEW-YORK,  Nov.  30th,  1852. 

DEAR  PROFESSOR  :          ««»»»*»•• 
We  should  have  been  glad  to  have  received  your  Oration  in  time  for 
publication  in  our  Magazine  (as  what  we  have  published  in  our  December 
number  does  not  suit  us)  ;  but  unfortunately,  our  January  number  (ex- 
cepting the  monthly  summary)  is  already  on  the  press. 

Yours,  truly, 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

[From  Rev.  Dr.  Jacob,  Principal  King's  College,  Province  N.  Brunswick.] 
KING'S  COLLEGE,  FREDERICTON,  N.  B., 
6th  December,  1852. 

DEAR  SIR  :  *  •  I  will  not  pretend  to  describe  the  admiration 
with  which  I  have  read  this  Elisoan  eulogy  on  the  apotheosis  of  your  trans- 
lated Elijah ;  but  content  myself  with  avowing  the  gratification  with  which 
I  receive  your  testimony,  that  possibly  an  Englishman,  at  the  head  of  such 
an  institution  as  this  from  which  I  write,  might  not  have  irrecoverably 
participated  in  Provincial  prejudices  against  the  merits  and  memory  of  a 
wise  and  good,  and  therefore  great  American. 

I  shall  transmit  the  Oration  to  ....  Having  already  conceived,  and  I 
may  add,  declared,  his  high  regard  for  such  republicans  as  Channing, 
Everett,  Story  and  Webster,  he  will  I  am  sure  be  far  from  regretting  that 
such  a  soul  and  voice  as  yours,  should  have  migrated  to  a  country  where 
yon  can  be  duly  heard,  felt,  and  appreciated. 


I  have  one  remark  to  offer  on  the  life,  and  another  on  the  death  of  the 
departed.  On  the  life,  and  its  attributed  imperfections — that  it  must  be 
the  maxim  of  the  politician  (and  might  not  I  add,  of  the  moralist  and 
divine?)  to  take  men  as  they  are,  and  make  the  best  of  them.  On  the  death, 
with  its  painful  and  disappointing  circumstances — that  tragedy  (as  long 
since  observed  by  the  great  critic),  above  all  other  representations,  is 
adapted  to  purify  the  human  soul.  The  martyrs  of  every  description  are 
the  "  chosen  vessels  "  to  communicate  the  riches  of  immortal  truth,  spirit, 
and  life. 

Pray  favor  me  with  future  communications,  and  believe  me,  Sir, 

Your  sincerely  obliged, 

EDWIN  JACOB. 

Prof.  AMASA  McCov,  Ballston  Spa,  N.  Y.,  U.  S. 

[From  Hon.  Robt.  C.  Winthrop.] 

BOSTON,  6  Dec.,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :  Your  obliging  note  of  the  26th  ultimo,  was  duly  received. 
I  have  read  with  great  interest  the  Oration  delivered  by  you  on  the  death 
of  Mr.  Webster.  It  is  a  most  vigorous  and  eloquent  production,  and  can- 
not fail  to  have  been  highly  impressive  in  delivery. 

For  the  greater  part  of  the  last  five  and  twenty  years,  I  have  enjoyed 
his  intimate  acquaintance  and  friendship,  and  nobody  has  a  higher  opinion 
of  his  intellectual  ability.  The  services  which  he  has  rendered  his  conntry 
in  time  of  need,  have  been  in  the  highest  degree  important,  and  his  printed 
volumes  are  a  treasury  of  wisdom  and  eloquence. 

While  therefore,  I  might  differ  from  you  in  a  few  passages  of  your 
Eulogy,  I  appreciate  the  justice  and  appropriateness  of  its  general  tone. 

I  venture  to  send  you  a  copy  of  a  speech  of  mine  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, just  before  I  succeeded  Mr.  Webster  in  the  Senate,  which  will 
give  you  my  views  on  the  question  at  issue,  should  you  care  to  know  them. 

Pray  send  me  your  Address  in  pamphlet,  if  it  is  so  published. 

Thanking  you  once  more,  for  your  friendly  attention,  I  remain,  Dear 
Sir,  with  great  regard, 

Yours  faithfully, 

AMASA  McCoy,  Esq.  ROBT.  C.  WINTHROP. 

[From  Hon.  Rufus  Choate.] 

BOSTON,  Dec.  llth,  1852- 
To  AMASA  McCoY,  Prof,  of  Rhetoric. 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  had  read  a  report  of  your  Funeral  Oration  [on  the  death 
of  Daniel  Webster]  with  great  interest,  before  you  were  so  kind  as  to  put 
me  in  possession  of  a  corrected  copy,  and  I  have  reperused  that  with  height- 
ened interest  and  appreciation. 

I  hope  it  may  not  seem  arrogant  or  indelicate  to  say  so,  but  I  regard  your 
discourse  on  the  whole,  the  most  adequate  to  the  great  subject  which  I  have 
read. 

Your  limits,  any  limits,  would  not  suffice  for  elaborating  and  consum- 
mating any  important  view  on  the  grand  aggregate  of  the  conception  you 
had  of  him.  But  the  outline  is  perfect,  I  think,  and  within  your  limits  the 
detail  is  just,  vivid,  and  generous. 

What  a  tribute  of  eloquent  feeling  he  has  attracted  and  deserved ! 
Multis — OMNIBUS— -Jlebilis. 

If  you  publish  your  discourse  in  pamphlet,  I  should  be  most  happy  to 
know  where  I  can  obtain  that  also. 

I  am  most  truly,  Your  obedient  servant, 

RUFUS  CHOATE. 

[From  Mayor  W.  W.  Seaton.] 

WASHINGTON,  25th  Dec.,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  feel  very  sensibly  the  honor  you  have  done  me,  in  the 
present,  namely,  of  a  copy  of  your  admirable  Oration  on  Mr.  Webster. 

I  have  read  the  Oration  with  pleasure  and  instruction ;  and  if  we  durst 
venture  to  discriminate  among  the  multitude  of  similar  productions,  from 
the  pulpit  and  chair,  which  have  reached  us,  I  should  be  glad  to  place  yours, 
or  at  least  some  portions  of  it,  in  the  National  Intelligencer.  It  would  be 
read  with  deep  gratification  by  all  of  Mr.  Webster-'s  countrymen,  and 


especially  by  all  who  were  honored  with  his  friendship,  and  who  enjoyed, 
as  I  did  for  so  many  years,  the  privilege  of  familiar  intercourse  with  him, 
and  thereby  learned  to  appreciate  fully  his  great  and  shining  qualities  of 
head  and  heart. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  obliged  and  very  obedient  servant, 
To  Prof.  AMASA  McCov.  W.  W.  SEATON. 

[From  Hon.  Joseph  Howe,  Provincial  Secretary  of  Nova  Scotia.] 

HALIFAX,  Nova  Scotia,  July  12,  1853- 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :   I  have  read  with  infinite  gratification,  your  Funeral 
Oration  on  Webster.     To  depict  a  great  man  truthfully,  there  must  be  ele- 
ments of  greatness  in  the  artist.     Webster  could  not  have  pronounced  a  more 
eloquent  eulogium  upon  himself.         »**•»«» 
Pray  send  me  from  time  to  time,  any  thing  of  yours  that  is  printed. 

Yours  truly, 

JOSEPH  HOWE. 
[From  Hon.  Samuel  Lawrence.] 

BOSTON,  Jan.  17th,  1854. 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :  Your  very  kind  favor  of  yesterday  is  at  hand,  and  I  hasten 
to  reply ;  thanking  you  for  the  Canadian  notices  of  your  lectures,  and  a  copy 
of  Mr.  Choate's  note  to  you. 

I  fully  agree  with  him  in  his  estimate  of  your  Oration  on  the  whole.    It  is 
the  best  I  have  seen,  always  excepting  his  own,  at  Hanover,  last  summer. 
Should  you  ever  come  to  this   place,  I  beg  of  you  to  let  me  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you ;  and  remain  most  truly, 

Your  obedient  servant, 
Prof.  AMASA  McCov,  Ballston  Spa,  N.  Y.          SAM'L  LAWRENCE. 

[From  Hon.  William  H.  Seward.] 

WASHINGTON,  July  31,  1854. 

DEAR  SIR:  •»»*  *  *  »»  ** 
I  beg  to  thank  you  even  so  late  as  this,  for  your  kindness  in  sending  me  a 
copy  of  your  Eulogium  on  Mr.  Webster.  I  read  it  with  unmingled  admira- 
tion. It  is  indeed  a  performance  of  rare  ability  ;  and  while  it  is  faultless  in 
execution,  there  is  no  error  of  opinion  in  it,  which  the  occasion  and  the 
circumstances  do  not  fully  excuse. 

I  am,  Dear  Sir,  very  respectfully, 

Your  Obedient  Servant, 
AMASA  McCoY,  Ballston  Spa,  N.  Y.  WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD. 

[From  Fletcher  Webster,  Esq.] 

BOSTON,  Aug.  3d,  1854. 

AMASA  McCoy,  Esq.,  Dear  Sir  :  I  am  very  much  your  debtor  for  your 
kind  note  of  30th  July. 

Your  statement  that  it  was  his  published  writings  that  made  you  an 
American  and  a  Republican,  is  very  grateful ;  and  is  perhaps  the  highest 
compliment  that  could  be  paid  to  him,  or  his  memory,  by  any  individual. 

The  fact  I  shall,  with  your  leave,  produce  in  the  forth-coming  volume;  and 
perhaps,  it  will  best  appear  by  the  publication  of  your  note  to  me. 

I  remember  the  same  remark  to  have  been  made  by  you  in  your  most 
eloquent  and  beautiful  address. 

I  shall  proceed  with  the  work  as  rapidly  as  I  can,  and  hope  to  do  no  dis- 
credit to  the  subject.     Renewing  my  thanks  to  you  for  your  letter, 
I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  very  truly  yours, 

FLETCHER  WEBSTER. 

[From  Chief  Justice  Williams,  of  Connecticut.] 

HARTFORD,  May  28,  1856. 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  beg  you  to  excuse  me  for  that,  for  which  I  cannot  excuse 
myself,  and  I  will  at  this  late  hour  return  my  cordial  thanks  for  the  copy  of 
your  eloquent  address  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster.  I  read  it  with  great 
pleasure,  and  think  it  worthy  of  the  high  encomiums  it  has  received.  It 
came  too  at  a  time,  when  I  was  about  uniting  more  permanently,  many 
pamphlets  on  that  subject  in  a  volume ;  among  which  I  need  not  say  yours 
will  occupy  a  prominent  place. 

I  am  very  respectfully  yours, 
AMASA  McCoY,  Esq.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  THOMAS  S.  WILLIAMS. 


FUNERAL  ORATION 


ON  THE  DEATH  OI' 


HON.  DANIEL  WEBSTER, 

, 

DELIVERED  AT  A  COMMEMORATION  IN  THE 

PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH,  BALLSTON  SPA,  N.  Y., 

MONDAY  EVENING,  NOVEMBER  8, 1852. 

% 


BY  AM  AS  A  McCOY. 

f  \S 


THIRD     EDITION. 


BOSTON : 

C.  C.  r  MOODY.  PRINTER,  52  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

1856. 


PUBLISHER'S  PREFACE  TO  THIRD  EDITION. 


THE  first  pamphlet  edition  of  this  Oration  was  printed  from  the 
newspaper  report  to  the  order,  and  at  the  expense,  of  Hon.  SAMUEL 
LAWRENCE,  of  Boston;  one  of  the  most  devoted  personal  friends  and 
admirers  of  the  great  deceased.  The  whole  edition  was  circulated  in 
Boston  and  elsewhere,  among  those  to  whom  the  blow,  as  in  the  case 
of  Mr.  LAWEENCE,  came  nearest  and  heaviest.  This  would  have 
spoke  well  for  this  tribute  in  honor  of  Mr.  WEBSTER,  had  there  been 
no  other  in  print.  But  it  makes  it  much  more  emphatic  and  pointed, 
when  we  recall  the  fact  that  very  many  similar  efforts  were  already 
accessible  in  pamphlet  form.  And  from  a  letter,  written  on  the 
birth-day  of  Mr.  WEBSTER,  1856,  we  gather  that  lapse  of  time  ha« 
only  confirmed  Mr.  LAWRENCE'S  first  opinion:  "I  fully  agree  with 
Mr.  CHOATE  in  his  estimate  of  Mr.  McCoy's  Oration.  It  is  the  best 
I  have  seen,  always  excepting  his  own  at  Hanover,  last  summer." 

The  death  of  WEBSTER  so  stirred  the  emotions  of  his  contempo- 
raries, that  the  most  eloquent  and  gifted  of  the  American  Orators 
who  survived  him,  exceeded  themselves  in  doing  him  honor;  and  the 
undersigned  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  the  hope,  that  some  pub- 
lishing house  will  put  in  one  or  two  volumes  all  the  best  of  these 
numerous  tributes.  Hon.  RUFUS  CHOATE,  in  his  admirable  Oration 
delivered  at  Dartmouth  College,  27th  of  July,  1858,  thus  confessed 
himself  struck  with  the  splendor  and  richness  of  this  aggregate  tri- 
bute-.— 

"  And  yet  I  hardly  know  what  there  is  in  public  biography,  what  there  is  in  litera- 
ture, to  be  compared  in  its  kind,  with  the  variety  and  beauty  and  adequacy  of  the 
series  of  discourses  ihrough  which  the  love  and  grief,  and  deliberate  reasoning  admira- 
tion of  America  for  this  great  man.  have  been  uttered." 

Hon.  EDWARD  EVERETT,  at  the  Celebration  of  the  Seventy-Fourth 
Anniversary  of  Mr.  WEBSTER'S  Birth-day,  Boston,  17th  January. 
1856,  expressed  his  sense  of  the  extraordinary  merit  and  enduring 
interest  of  these  Orations,  as  follows: — 

';  I  do  not  rise  to  pronounce  the  eulogy  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER.  That  work  was 
performed,  at  the  time  of  his  lamented  decease,  in  almost  every  part  of  the  country, 
and  by  a  greater  number  of  the  distinguished  wrilers  and  speakers  of  the  United  States 
than  have,  in  any  former  instance,  with  the  single  exception  of  Washington,  paid  this 
last  office  of  respect  to  departed  worth.  It  was  in  many  cuses  performed  with  extra- 
ordinary ability.  ******  whose  performances,  besides  doing  noble  justice 
to  this  great  theme,  will  take  a  permanent  place  in  the  literature  of  the  country." 

The  Publisher  of  this  pamphlet  feels  very  certain  that  it  will  inte- 
rest the  friends  of  Mr.  WEBSTER,  and  the  admirers  of  this  Oration, 
(the  only  considerable  one,  as  far  as  he  knows,  by  a  person  of  foreign 
birth,*)  when  he  informs  them  that  among  the  orders  on  file  for  this 
his  Third  Edition,  is  one  of  200  copies  from  a  distinguished  citizen  in 
California;  and  who  says  in  writing  from  San  Francisco,  that  he  has 
"  read  it  with  such  delight  and  admiration,  that  I  desire  to  put  a  copy 
in  every  Division  Room  and  Library  in  the  State  of  California,  where 
I  believe,  it  will  be  read  and  preserved  with  much  interest." 

C.  C.  P.  MOODY. 
52  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON. 

*  Mr.  McCoy  is  now  a  naturalized  citizen  of  the  United  States ;  is  Professor  of 
Rhetoric  and  Oratory  in  the  Law  School  of  the  Albany  University,  and  Editor  of  the 
distinguished  Temperance  Monthly,  TUB  PROHIBITIONIST,  published  at  Albany,  by 
the  New  York  State  Temperance  Society. 


^BLISHER'S  PREFACE  TO  SECOND  EDITION. 


THE  undersigned,  having  issued  a  pamphlet  edition  of  the  follow- 
ing Oration,  for  private  circulation  by  an  eminent  merchant  of  this 
city,  very  frequent  enquiries  have  been  made  of  him  for  extra  copies. 
These,  together  with  the  high  commendation  bestowed  upon  it  by  the 
most  eminent  friends  of  Mr.  WEBSTER,  have  induced  the  publication 
of  this  second  edition.  The  New  York  Express,  the  first  paper  in 
which  the  discourse  was  printed,  accompanied  the  report  with  these 
remarks : — 

"  We  publish  to-day  a  beautiful  oration,  delivered  by  AMASA  McCoy,  Esq.,  of  Ball- 
ston  Spa,  N.  V.,  and  for  the  past  two  years  Professor  of  Rhetoric  in  the  National  Law 
School.  The  style  of  the  orator  in  the  delivery  was  faultless,  and  so  riveted  was  the 
attention  of  the  vast  audience,  that  a  pin  might  have  been  heard  to  fall  in  any  part  of 
the  edifice  during  the  pronouncing  of  the  eulogy.  Professor  McCoy  is  yet  a  young 
man.  and  he  has  but  to  pursue  the  path  he  has  marked  out,  to  acquire  a  world-widi 
renown  as  an  eloquent  public  speaker." — New  York  Express. 

It  is  an  admirable  oration  It  will  be  read  with  deep  gratification  by  all  of  Mr. 
WEBSTER'S  countrymen. — Hon.  W.  W.  Section,  Ed.  National  Intelligencer. 

A  more  sublime  oration,  a  more  splendid  burst  of  eloquent  eulogium,  we  never  had 
the  pleasure  of  perusing—  St.  John  (N.  B.)  Courier. 

I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  I  consider  it  the  most  able  I  have  seen  on  this 
event,  and  well  worthy  the  commendation  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  Express.  His  esti- 
mate of  Webster's  character  and  writings  strikes  me  as  being  singularly  felicitous  — 
Rev.  W.  Ingraham  Kip,  D.  D.,  of  Albany. 

I  have  read  the  oraiion  with  great  interest.  It  is  a  most  vigorous  and  eloquent  pro- 
duction —Hon.  Robert  C.  Winthrop. 

After  reading  it  arnid  incessant  interruptions,  I  have  laid  it  by  for  a  leisure  hour, 
with  the  sure  promise  of  a  rich  intellectual  treat.  Professor  McCoy  has  entered  deeply 
into  the  great  theme. — Hon.  Edward  Everett. 

I  have  re-perused  Prof.  McCoy's  Funeral  Oration  on  Mr.  WEBSTER  with  height- 
ened interest  and  appreciation.  I  regard  this  discourse,  on  the  whole,  as  the  most  ade- 
quate to  the  great  subject  which  I  have  read. — Hon.  Rvfvs  Choate. 

Though  these  are  but  a  part  of  the  evidences  of  the  favor  with 
which  the  Oration  has  been  regarded  by  those  most  competent  to  pro- 
nounce upon  its  merits,  they  are  surely  more  than  enough  to  warrant 
the  publisher  in  believing,  that  in  making  it  accessible  to  the  public  in 
a  better  form  than  it  has  yet  appeared,  he  is  adding,  in  his  way,  to 
the  numerous  tributes  to  the  illustrious  deceased,  and  administering 
to  the  gratification  of  his  sorrowing  countrymen. 

C.  C.  P.  MOODY. 
52  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON. 


DIRGE, 


[As  a  part  of  the  preliminary  exercises,  the  following  Dirge  composed  for 
the  occasion  by  the  distinguished  American  poet,  ALFRED  B.  STREET,  Esq., 
of  Albany,  was  sung  by  the  Choir,  in  a  very  solemn  and  pathetic  manner, 
to  the  venerable  tune  of  'Old  Hundred.'] 

A  shade  like  night,  is  o'er  us  flung; 
Our  Eagle's  wing  in  grief  is  hung; 
Our  brightest  star  the  sky  hath  cross 'd! 
Its  lordliest  plume  that  wing  hath  lost. 

But  though  the  orb  hath  left  our  eyes, 
It  but  glides  on  to  future  skies ; 
And  memory  of  the  plume  will  bring 
New  strength  to  lift  that  spreading  wing. 

His  stately  form  in  death  is  laid ; 
But  his  proud  glory  ne'er  shall  fade. 
On  Time's  last  wave,  no  brighter  fame 
Shall  glow  than  that  of  WEBSTER'S  name. 


ORATION. 


The  tolling  bells  of  twice  ten  thousand  stee- 
ples, proclaim  that  we  have  met  with  no  ordinary 
loss.  Populous  and  opulent  cities,  thousands  of 
miles  from  each  other,  celebrate  these  obsequies 
with  all  that  can  engage  the  imagination,  and 
impress  the  heart.  Even  in  a  retired  village, 
which  makes  no  pretensions  to  parade,  and 
where  there  is  nothing  of  magnificence,  save 
the  sombre  pomp  of  nature  herself,  the  citizens 
of  Ballston  Spa,  without  distinction  of  party; 
the  Board  of  Supervisors  representing  every 
town  in  the  County  of  Saratoga ;  the  members 
of  the  Ballston  Institute,  coming  from  different 
sections  of  the  State ;  the  students  of  the  Na- 
tional Law  School,  representing  more  than  half 
the  States  of  the  Union ;  have  assembled  under 
these  sable  hangings,  to  join  in  the  sublime 
lament  which  is  now  being  sung  by  the  nation. 
These  expressions  of  public  sorrow,  however 


8 

numerous  and  solemn,  can  be  of  no  use,  it  is 
true,  to  the  dead.  But  they  may  justly  admin- 
ister to  the  consolation  of  the  living.  To  echo 
words  once  uttered  by  those  lips,  which  because 
they  are  sealed  in  death,  we  are  now  convened : 
"  the  tears  which  flow,  and  the  honors  that  are 
paid,  when  the  founders  of  the  Republic  die, 
give  hope  that  the  Republic  itself  will  be  im- 
mortal." 

DANIEL  WEBSTER,  Secretary  of  State  in  the 
United  States,  died  at  his  farm  at  Marshfield,  on 
the  morning  of  the  24th  of  October.  Ten  days 
ago,  his  mortal  remains  were  laid  away  in  his 
family  vault.  At  the  time  of  his  death  he  had 
passed,  some  nine  months,  the  limit  assigned  by 
the  Psalmist  to  mortal  man.  Yet  had  we  never 
come  to  associate  with  him  the  idea  of  decay. 
The  whole  of  this  long  period  was  filled  up  with 
busy  and  laborious  days  in  the  service  of  his 
country.  He  was  born,  he  lived,  he  died,  in  a 
century  and  a  country  of  Freedom.  He  first 
saw  the  light  amid  her  mountain  home,  and  he 
died  where  she  lifts  her  radiant  form  to  enjoy 
the  ocean  breeze. 

His  death,  since  its  occurrence,  has  engrossed 
the  columns  of  the  press ;  it  has  put  the  marts 


9 

and  the  harbors  of  commerce  in  mourning ;  it 
has  been  solemnly  noticed  by  the  bar  and  the 
bench  in  the  Courts  of  Justice ;  in  the  depart- 
ments of  State ;  and  in  the  mansion  of  the  Exe- 
cutive. And  what  bespeaks  still  more  a  public 
sense  of  calamity,  it  even  stopped,  and  that 
within  a  week  of  the  day  of  ballot,  the  whole 
machinery  of  a  National  Election. 

Meantime,  while  we  have  been  witnessing 
this  first  spontaneous  outburst  of  sorrow,  and 
while  more  elaborate  and  sumptuous  expressions 
are  but  just  beginning,  these  unwelcome  tidings 
have  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  deepened  the 
grief  of  a  nation  already,  like  ourselves,  clothed 
in  the  habiliments  of  mourning.  The  event  by 
this  time  has  been  noticed  with  honor  in  hun- 
dreds of  English  journals;  it  has  afflicted  the 
members  of  the  profession  in  the  courts  of  West- 
minster ;  it  has  been  mentioned  on  the  floors  of 
Parliament;  it  has  penetrated  the  cloisters  of 
Oxford  and  Cambridge.  And  before  the  action 
yet  to  be  taken  by  the  State  Legislatures,  the 
Supreme  Federal  Judiciary,  and  the  Houses  of 
Congress ;  the  intelligence,  in  the  order  of  its 
course,  will  have  carried  grief  to  the  heart  of 
every  lover  of  freedom  in  the  nations  of  Europe ; 


10 

and  where  less  will  be  expressed  than  felt,  be- 
cause of  the  padlock  on  the  lip  of  Liberty.     So 
that,  after  all  that  has  been  done,  and  all  that 
will  be,  that  which  will  not  be  done,  will  re- 
dound most  to  the  honor  of  the  great  American. 
The  public  journals  have  certainly  laid  the 
country  under  many  obligations,  by  their  incre- 
dible industry  in  collecting  facts  respecting  this 
extraordinary  life.     By  so  doing  they  have  not 
only  contributed  vastly  to  our  edification,  but  I 
submit  that  every  fresh  particular  only  increases 
our  respect  for  the  character  of  the  deceased. 
The  colossal  proportions  of  his  intellect  had  be- 
come a  proverb ;  but  the  impression  I  think  is 
now  general,  that  great  injustice  has  been  done 
to  the  qualities  of  his  heart.     The  tongue  of 
scandal  had  been  busy  in  bold  affirmations  res- 
pecting great  frailties  and  infirmities.     No  re- 
flecting man  ever  doubted  that  much  of  this  was 
the  invention  of  political  rancor,  and  a  curious 
proneness  there  is  to  seek  for  weakness  in  the 
great.     Whatever  of  this  is  true,  no  one  should 
now  seek  to   extenuate,   out  of  regard  to   the 
influence   of   example.      The   ancient   maxim, 
that  nothing   should   be   said  of  the  dead  but 
what  is  favorable,  the  better  ethics  of  our  time 


11 

justly  repudiate.  History,  when  true  to  its 
mission,  is  a  dread  tribunal ;  and  while  it  will 
not  allow  the  least  injustice  to  the  dead,  it  will 
not  be  unmindful  of  its  duty  to  the  living.  In 
the  mean  time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  many 
persons  whose  minds  had  been  abused,  are  taken 
by  surprise  by  the  numerous  and  authentic  evi- 
dence of  the  genial  excellencies  which  gave 
warmth  and  coloring  to  his  character.  The 
nation  had  been  so  engrossed  with  the  grandeur 
of  his  public  career,  that  few  were  prepared  for 
any  such  statement  as  that  his  greatness  dilated 
when  he  entered  the  social  circle.  And  it  is  fit 
in  this  temple  of  worship  to  invite  those,  if  any 
such  there  be,  who  have  assumed  to  use  his 
name  to  give  respectability  to  their  own  delin- 
quencies, to  ponder  now  upon  some  other  things. 
Let  them  remember  that  vulgar  infidelity  never 
polluted  his  lips.  That  nothing  ever  escaped 
him  in  his  public  speeches,  nothing  in  private 
conversation,  disrespectful  to  the  truths  of  Christ- 
ianity. That  he  was  a  devout  believer  in 
divine  Revelation.  That  he  studied  the  scrip- 
tures more  than  many  whose  high  vocation  it  is 
to  expound  them.  That  he  was  faithful  in  his 
attendance  upon  the  services  of  the  sanctuary. 


That  the  attributes  of  the  Deity,  as  displayed 
in  his  works,  overflowed  his  capacious  nature 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  devotion. 

And  for  my  own  part,  I  join  with  those  who 
say  that  none  of  his  great  deeds  in  life,  give 
them  such  ideas  of  moral  grandeur,  ~as  the  man- 
ner of  his  death.  I  see  him  shake  the  Capitol 
in  his  wrath,  when  a  violent  hand  is  laid  upon 
the  Constitution ;  and  yet  it  does  not  affect  me 
with  such  an  elevated  sense  of  human  greatness, 
as  to  mark  the  meek  serenity  with  which  he  suf- 
fers the  pangs  of  death,  and  abides  the  good  plea- 
sure of  his  God.  His  implicit  faith  in  the  blood 
of  Christ,  his  parting  blessings  upon  his  family 
and  domestics,  his  unmurmuring  resignation  in 
the  last  mortal  agony, — tell  me,  ye  who  minis- 
ter at  the  altar,  was  not  here  enough  to  have 
suggested  to  the  Christian  poet,  all  his  sublime 
conceptions  of « the  chamber  where  the  good  man 
meets  his  fate  ?' 

When  Mark  Anthony  appeared  before  the 
citizens  of  Rome,  to  pronounce  his  funeral 
oration  over  the  dead  body  of  Caesar,  his  first 
endeavor  was  to  refute  the  principal  accusation 
of  Caesar's  enemies.  A  grave  charge  has  been 
preferred  against  the  deceased  whom  we  deplore, 


13 

in  connection  with  one  of  his  last  acts  in  the 
Senate,  and  which  it  is  not  to  be  concealed,  in 
the  minds  of  many,  and  of  some  before  me, 
rests  at  this  moment  as  a  cloud  upon  his 
memory.  The  charge  is  now  of  over  two  years' 
standing.  What  men  have  urged  and  insisted 
upon  again  and  again,  becomes  rooted  and 
grounded  in  their  very  nature.  The  matter  in 
question  has  become  a  part  of  that  feeling, 
hardly  less  inveterate  than  religious  bigotry,  the 
spirit  of  party.  How  idle  it  would  be  to  think 
of  removing  it,  1  am  well  enough  persuaded; 
but  that  the  subject  would  be  referred  to  on  such 
an  occasion  might  naturally  be  expected.  I 
deem  it  expedient  to  touch  upon  it  in  very  brief 
terms  at  this  stage  of  my  remarks. 

Some  persons  go  as  far  as  this.  The  Com- 
promise Measures  adopted  by  Congress  in  1850, 
tended  to  perpetuate  a  great  evil.  Evil  should 
not  be  done  even  to  sustain  the  arch  of  the 
Union.  To  such  persons  I  would  say,  what  I 
may  not  now  reason  out,  that  there  are  nume- 
rous evils  which  are  the  natural  consequences 
of  society.  But  to  disband  society  would  be  a 
greater  evil.  Whoever  remains  in  society,  then, 
acts  upon  the  principle  of  choosing  the  least  of 


14 

evils.  Society  is  held  together  only  by  mutual 
compromise.  The  science  of  governing  to  a 
great  extent,  is  but  the  science  of  expedients. 
The  philosopher  deals  only  in  abstract  truth,  and 
may  always  be  consistent  with  himself.  But 
between  the  theories  and  the  practical  action  of 
legislators  and  rulers,  there  must  sometimes  be 
a  variance. 

Such  extreme  ground,  however,  is  probably 
occupied  by  no  one  present.  You  frankly  admit, 
if  you  could  believe  that  the  Compromise  mea- 
sures were  essential  to  the  integrity  of  the 
Union,  you  would  no  longer  condemn  those  who 
voted  for  them.  But  you  hold  that  there  was 
no  danger  of  any  section  seceding ;  and  I  under- 
stand your  chief  ground  of  confidence  is  this : 
that  secession  would  have  been  contrary  to 
their  own  interests.  I  ask,  is  it  an  unheard-of 
thing  that  men  should  act  contrary  to  their  own 
interests  ?  especially  men  of  pride  and  spirit, 
and  most  especially  when  they  believe,  or  even 
imagine  that  any  injustice  is  being  done  them  ? 
Were  there  not  thousands  of  men,  as  intelligent 
and  as  honest  as  yourselves,  who  did  believe  , 
some  such  compromise  necessary  ?  And  have 
not  multitudes  who  then  condemned  such  legis- 


lation,  since  avowed  their  approval  ?  Was  not 
the  measure  acquiesced  in  by  hundreds  of  min- 
isters of  religion,  whose  learning  and  piety 
make  them  the  objects  of  reverence  ?  Did  a 
majority  of  both  houses  of  Congress,  did  so 
many  of  their  number,  of  patriotism  hitherto 
above  suspicion,  walk  in  open  day  to  the  sham- 
bles of  corruption,  and  traffic  away  the  accu- 
mulated honor  of  life  ?  Did  Millard  Fillmore 
do  so ;  did  Henry  Clay ;  did  Daniel  Webster  ? 
When  Nullification  was  coiling  its  fatal  folds 
around  this  body  politic,  entire  fruit  of  the  revo- 
lution, and  just  about  to  send  to  its  extremities 
the  icy  chill  of  death,  you  need  not  be  told 
whose  mighty  arm  it  was  that  slew  the  monster 
as  with  a  battle  axe.  '  If  you  have  writ  your 
annals  true,  alone  he  did  it.5  This  great  cham- 
pion of  public  liberty,  whose  whole  fame  was 
associated  with  its  defence,  and  who  saw  that 
many  would  now  brand  him  as  an  apostate  and 
traitor — do  you  believe  that  he  was  condemned 
also  by  his  own  conscience  ?  Have  those  who 
have  been  so  unsparing  of  censure,  ever  summed 
up  the  penalty  he  paid  for  taking  this  step  ? 
Reproach,  reproach,  from  how  many  quarters — 
with  what  bitterness — and  how  long  sustained ! 


16 

And  this  from  oldest  friends,  upon  whom  the 
heart  had  learned  to  lean  for  support.  The  stab 
of  Brutus,  you  know,  that  was  the  unkindest 
cut  of  all.  If  then,  my  friend  and  fellow-citi- 
zen, you  cannot  yet  view  this  matter  as  I  do, 
but  must  still  insist  in  your  heart,  that  he  was 
guilty  of  a  grievous  fault, — at  least,  you  will 
not  refuse  to  remember  how  grievously  he  hath 
answered  it.  And  while  no  powers  of  persua- 
sion can  efface  from  your  memory  the  single 
evil  you  have  contended  he  did,  that  American 
heart  within  you,  whose  depths  he  has  so  often 
stirred  as  with  notes  of  battle  and  of  victory,  is 
surely  too  just  and  magnanimous  to  insist  upon 
interring  with  his  bones  all  that  he  ever  did  of 
good. 

In  common  with  the  whole  country,  fellow- 
citizens,  you  have  frequently  reviewed,  since  its 
termination,  Mr.  Webster's  great  career.  If  it 
had  not  occurred  to  you  before,  you  must  now 
be  impressed  with  the  fact,  that  of  the  many 
distinguished  citizens  of  his  day,  few  owed  less 
to  fortuitous  circumstances.  Mr.  Webster  was 
not  a  man  whose  fame  grew  up  over  night. 
He  owed  his  eminence  to  no  accident,  no  com- 
promise of  factions,  no  chance  of  battle,  no 


freak  of  fortune.  None  of  his  influence  was 
acquired  by  flattering  the  people,  but  only  by 
serving  them.  He  more  than  once  opposed  a 
farther  introduction  into  the  government  of  the 
popular  element;  and  in  doing  so,  used  the 
whole  weight  of  his  influence  and  talent.  He 
not  only  repudiated  the  idea  of  a  Democracy ;  for 
that  is  dreamed  of  by  no  one.  But  he  evidently 
had -faith  in  nothing  less  than  the  representative 
Republic,  with  all  its  checks  and  balances,  as 
framed  by  the  fathers.  He  acquired  none  of  his 
distinction  then,  by  introducing  sweeping  re- 
forms in  government.  Indeed  I  undertake  to 
say,  that  the  most  general  characteristic  of  that 
whole  career  which  the  country  is  now  contem- 
plating with  so  much  reverence,  is  that  of  the 
great  conservator.  He  borrowed  no  honor  from 
office,  for  his  mere  entry  into  it  covered  it  with 
lustre  forever ;  and  whoever  might  be  elevated 
to  the  Presidency,  Webster  still  continued  the 
most  eminent  citizen  of  the  Republic.  The 
explanation  of  Mr.  Webster's  fame,  consists 
simply,  in  wonderful  native  endowments,  dis- 
ciplined by  the  last  severity  of  culture,  and  dis- 
played in  professional  and  public  service.  To 
eloquence,  to  law,  to  civil  polity,  he  devoted 


18 

more  study,  than  most  public  men  to  all  united. 
If  Buffon,  as  he  said,  owed  ten  or  twelve 
volumes  of  his  writings  to  his  servant,  who 
forced  him  to  rise  at  six, — it  would  be  interest- 
ing, if  it  could  be  ascertained,  to  know  what 
proportion  of  Mr.  Webster's  greatness  is  ascrib- 
able  to  his  having  risen  at  four. 

The  extinction  of  this  great  light  afflicts  no 
class  more  sorely  than  that  scattered  brother- 
hood who  make  up  the  republic  of  letters.  In 
our  part  of  that  realm  he  was  chief.  No  other 
man  in  this  country  ever  exercised  in  so  large  a 
measure  that  sway  over  the  human  mind  which 
belongs  to  literature.  His  supremacy  over  men 
was  in  proportion  as  they  were  educated.  In 
Boston  he  reigned  in  all  the  sovereignty  of  rea- 
son. Had  this  whole  country  been  made  up  of 
Bostons — he  would  long  since  have  been  called, 
by  acclamation,  to  the  Chief  Magistracy  of  the 
Union. 

More  than  any  other  American  of  his  day, 
more  than  any  Englishman,  Mr.  Webster's  style 
was  chaste,  lucid,  and  perspicuous.  Every  sen- 
tence was  a  crystal.  He  scattered  among  the 
people  no  ambiguous  words.  When  Webster 
had  spoken,  you  might  differ  from  him  indeed ; 


but  you  knew  his  meaning.  Whatever  he 
touched,  he  not  only  adorned,  but  he  shed  over 
it  a  perpetual  light.  Such  was  the  literary 
excellence  of  Mr.  Webster's  speech,  that  its 
influence  did  not  cease  with  its  delivery.  There 
was  always  a  charm  over  the  printed  report, 
that  attracted  and  captivated  innumerable  read- 
ers. There  were  men  of  his  day,  and  Mr.  Clay 
was  one  of  them,  who  exercised  a  more  talis- 
manic  sway  over  their  immediate  hearers ;  but 
who  spoke  with  such  commanding  eloquence  to 
the  nation  ?  When  it  was  known  that  Webster 
was  to  speak,  is  it  any  exaggeration  to  say  that  the 
Republic  was  one  eager  auditory  ?  Give  me  a 
name  if  you  can,  for  glory  like  this :  never  to 
have  risen,  but  millions  hung  upon  his  lips; 
never  to  have  sat  down,  but  millions  were 
wiser  men  and  better  patriots.  Webster's 
printed  speeches  were  re-read,  and  put  carefully 
away,  and  committed.  How  many  of  his  sen- 
tences, laden  with  noble  truth  and  glowing 
patriotism,  have  become  familiar  as  household 
words !  Plutarch  informs  us  that  so  thoroughly 
were  the  priests  instructed  in  the  writings  of 
Numa,  that  the  law-giver,  assured  that  they 
would  be  preserved  in  spirit  and  in  letter, 


20 

ordered  them  to  be  burned  with  his  body.  Such 
is  the  impression  made  upon  the  minds  of  his 
countrymen,  by  the  productions  of  Webster, 
that  had  all  written  record  of  them  been  in- 
terred with  his  remains,  every  principle  and  pre- 
cept could  be  collected  from  the  memory  of  living 
men ;  and  all  his  great  orations,  I  doubt  not, 
could  be  restored  to  print,  word  for  word. 

His  sentiments  are  not  only  engraven  on 
the  minds  of  his  countrymen,  but  they  blend 
themselves  with  the  surface  of  the  country 
itself.  Spots  which  the  blood  of  our  fathers  has 
consecrated,  this  great  master  of  eloquence  has 
made  classic.  Even  Bunker  Hill,  of  hallowed 
memory,  has  borrowed  additional  interest  and 
renown  from  his  transcendent  powers  of  speech. 
They  have  given  birth  indeed  to  the  noblest 
monument  of  that  eventful  day.  Any  country, 
any  people  could  have  erected  the  granite  obe- 
lisk. Of  his  contemporaries,  who  but  the  great 
New  England  orator  could  have  delivered  such 
discourses?  It  is  not  intimated  that  Bunker 
Hill  Monument  is  not  everything  that  could 
reasonably  be  asked.  Lifting  itself  from  that 
memorable  summit,  "  rising  over  the  land,  and 
over  the  sea,  and  visible  at  their  homes,  to  three 


21 

hundred  thousand  citizens  of  Massachusetts,"  it 
is  indeed  a  stupendous  structure.  And  yet  it  is 
less  imposing  and  majestic  than  the  orations 
pronounced  there  by  Webster.  "Towering 
high  above  the  column  which  our  hands  have 
builded,  beheld,  not  by  a  single  city,  or  a  single 
state,  ascends  the  colossal  grandeur"  of  these 
sublimer  remembrancers. 

The  influence  of  Mr.  Webster's  speeches  was 
not  limited  to  this  country.  In  this  connection, 
permit  one  born  under  another  government,  and 
among  a  people  at  that  time  prejudiced  beyond 
belief,  to  say  that  my  own  experience  furnishes 
me  with  data,  which  from  the  good  fortune  of 
your  birth,  you  would  probably  omit  to  take  into 
the  account.  Happening  to  fall  in  with  these 
great  productions,  I  not  only  bowed  in  homage 
to  the  talents  of  the  author,  but  immediately 
conceived  respect,  then  admiration,  and  before 
I  got  through,  enthusiasm  and  reverence,  for  the 
history,  the  great  men,  and  the  institutions  of 
America.  I  said  to  myself  that  in  the  wonder- 
ful attributes  of  this  great  orator,  and  the  heroic 
virtues  of  his  countrymen  whom  he  celebrates, 
is  more  than  realized,  what  in  Berkley,  a  cen- 
tury and  a  quarter  ago,  seemed  an  extravagant 


22 

flight,  even  for  poetry ;  that  here  should  rise  up, 
and  here  should  be  sung, 

"The  good  and  great  inspiring  epic  rage, 
The  wisest  heads  and  noblest  hearts." 

Thus  does  it  happen,  that  for  the  high  privi- 
lege of  American  citizenship,  for  such  a  proud 
distinction,  and  crowning  felicity,  I  am  indebted 
to  the  sway  of  his  living  words,  to  whom  in 
death,  from  the  fullness  of  a  swollen  heart,  I 
now  make  this  poor  acknowledgment.  Plato 
thanked  heaven  that  he  was  born  in  the  same 
age  with  Socrates.  What  a  heart  should  I  have, 
if  it  did  not  overflow  with  gratitude,  that  I  have 
not  only  been  thus  far  contemporary  with  the 
deceased,  have  experienced  the  divine  luxury 
of  his  thought,  and  heard  two  orations  from  his 
lips,  but  that  I  am  now  entitled  against  the 
world,  to  claim  a  share  in  his  immense  renown. 

"Praise  enough 

To  rill  th'  ambition  of  a  private  man, 
That  WEBSTER'S  language  was  his  mother  tongue, 
And  CLAY'S  great  name  compatriot  with  his  own." 

I  have  spoken  of  my  native  Province  as  at 
that  time  prejudiced  beyond  belief,  against  what- 
ever pertained  to  the  neighboring  Republic.  I 
rejoice  to  do  it  justice.  Such  was  the  respect 
they  had  come  to  entertain  for  the  citizen  now 


deceased,  that  when  in  one  of  its  villages*  the 
announcement  was  made  that  he  was  dead,  the 
people  gave  expession  to  their  feelings  in  a 
salute  of  an  hundred  guns  from  English  artillery. 
Not  only  in  the  Hulsemann  letter,  at  the 
Plymouth  dinner,  and  on  the  Greek  question, 
but  on  numerous  other  occasions,  Mr.  Webster's 
resistless  eloquence,  defining  the  position,  and 
speaking  the  sentiment  of  the  American  Repub- 
lic, has  fulmined  over  Europe, 

"  To  Macedon  and  Artaxerxes'  throne." 

Those  who  make  it  out  so  clearly  to  their 
own  satisfaction  that  he  was  guilty  of  such 
astounding  apostacy,  let  them  not  fail  to  notice 
this.  That  his  death  breaks  a  spell  of  dread  to 
Absoluteism.  Tyrants  rejoice,  that  Webster 
has  fallen ! 

A  full  survey  of  the  public  life  and  services 
of  Mr.  Webster,  can  be  taken  only  by  his  bio- 
grapher. Let  those  who  assume  such  an  enume- 
ration, not  omit  to  include  the  following.  That 
out  of  the  treasury  of  his  single  intellect,  he  has 
paid  another  installment  on  the  debt  of  civili- 
zation, we  owe  the  mother  Empire.  It  consists 
not  alone  in  the  light  he  has  shed  upon  the  sci- 

*  St.  Stephens,  New  Brunswick. 


24 

ences  of  international  law,  and  civil  polity. 
Virgil  considered  himself  covered  with  glory, 
when  he  was  called  a  pillar  of  the  Latin  tongue ; 
and  English  scholars,  in  the  fine  enthusiasm, 
and  high  magnanimity  of  letters,  will  acknow- 
ledge with  feelings  of  admiration  and  gratitude, 
that  even  to  that  gorgeous  temple,  whose  base, 
and  whose  dome  were  the  productions  of  a 
Shakspeare,  the  doric  contributions  of  the  great 
American  orator,  have  given  additional  strength, 
sublimity  and  grandeur. 

Cicero  thought  Plato  used  such  language  as 
Jupiter  would,  had  he  talked  in  the  Greek  The 
English  of  Webster  suggests  the  same  notion  of 
majesty.  And  if  Cicero  had  given  us  his  idea 
of  the  fabled  deity  in  the  act  and  attitude  of 
speaking,  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  he 
would  have  invested  him  with  a  more  imposing 
presence.  Conceptions  of  this  kind  are  fur- 
nished in  poetry,  which  have  been  things  of  joy 
to  the  scholars  of  many  generations.  But  I 
question  whether  votaries  of  letters  most  famil- 
iar with  the  heathen  Jove  of  Homer,  the  Tro- 
jan leader  of  Virgil,  the  royal  Dane  of  Shak- 
speare, and  the  primitive  great  sire  of  Milton, 
ever  had  in  their  mind's  eye,  a  figure  which  so 


25 

impressed  the  heart,  as  when  they  gazed  upon 
the  solemn  front,  and  eye  sublime  of  our  illus- 
trious countryman.  Not  only  have  European 
masters  in  sculpture  hung  over  his  bust  enam- 
oured, as  a  model  beyond  even  their  finest  ideal ; 
but  persons  of  no  culture  whatever,  equally 
strangers  to  his  fame,  and  to  the  enthusiasm  of 
poetry  and  art,  have  given  involuntary  utter- 
ance to  the  sentiment  of  the  admiring  Queen  of 
Carthage — 

"  Quern  sese  oreferens!"* 

These  outward  indications  of  power,  without 
example  in  his  own  age,  added  immensely,  as 
might  be  supposed,  to  the  grandeur  of  his  spoken 
eloquence.  Of  other  orators,  the  audience  made 
his  present  speech  the  gauge  of  his  intellect. 
And  I  suppose  it  often  happened  that  Mr.  Web- 
ster did  his  utmost;  but  with  that  massive 
amplitude  of  brow  before  you,  and  that  vision 
and  faculty  divine,  it  was  impossible  to  believe 
it.  Bring  forward  what  he  might,  you  still  said, 
'the  greatest  is  behind.'  Make  ever  so  great  a 
conquest,  the  spectators  reported: 

"  Yet  half  his  strength,  he  put  not  forth,  but  check'd 
His  thunder  in  mid-volley." 

*  "  How  great  does  he  show  himself  in  his  countenance ."' 


26 

And  when  the  historian,  glorying  in  his  theme, 
shall  have  recounted  to  the  men  of  another  age, 
the  mighty  feats  of  his  genius,  it  needs  must  cap 
the  climax  of  their  wonder  to  be  told ;  that  such 
was  his  superb  exterior,  and  so  vast  in  promise, 
that  he  left  his  contemporaries  in  doubt,  had  he 
been  called  to  meet  a  crisis  so  much  greater,  or 
grapple  with  an  adversary  so  much  more  formi- 
dable, whether  he  had  it  not  in  him,  to  have 
achieved  in  one  single  triumph,  what  would 
have  eclipsed  the  sum  of  his  others. 

It  would  be  very  proper  in  the  presence  of 
so  much  aspiration  for  professional  honor,  to 
dwell  at  some  length  upon  the  character  of  the 
deceased  as  a  lawyer.  And  in  adequate  hands, 
what  more  noble  theme  for  discourse.  But  an 
attempt  at  such  an  analysis  of  his  mind,,  or  such 
summing  up  of  his  attainments  by  any  one  who 
has  not  devoted  to  the  law  his  '  twenty  years  of 
vigils,'  would  amount  in  my  esteem,  to  irreverent 
presumption.  Let  us  leave  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject then,  after  expressing  only  what  is  in  the 
mind  of  every  educated  man  in  the  country. 
His  published  arguments  at  the  bar,  have  never 
yet  been  spoken  of  as  less  than  consummate 
models  of  forensic  discussion.  And  the  propor- 


tion  of  his  admirers  is  riot  small,  who  insist  that 
this  is  the  theatre  where  the  prowess  of  his 
mind  achieved  its  greatest  feats.  As  has  been 
said  by  an  old  man  eloquent,  a  patriarch  of  col- 
lege presidents,  respecting  Hamilton :  "he  strode 
through  the  cause  with  the  club  of  Hercules, 
and  left  nothing  living  in  his  path."  If  you 
inquire  who  stands  at  the  head  of  the  profession 
in  any  given  city  or  State,  different  persons  will 
give  you  a  different  name;  whereas  not  only 
now  in  the  generosity  of  funeral  eulogium,  but 
any  time  during  the  last  third  of  his  life,  and 
that  by  universal  acclaim,  the  first  place  at  the 
Bar  of  the  American  Union  was  accorded  to 
Webster.  And  when  of  all  this  assemblage  there 
remains  not  on  earth  the  slightest  vestige  of 
remembrance,  posterity  will  marvel  as  we  do 
now,  at  this  amazing  triumph  of  intellect;  to 
have  won  the  palm  which  cost  Pinckney  and 
Wirt  the  sustained  struggle  of  a  life ;  and  yet  at 
the  same  time,  in  the  higher  path  of  statesman- 
ship, which  they  almost  entirely  avoided,  to 
have  clomb  to  equal  pre-eminence ;  and  in  addi- 
tion to  all  this,  and  perhaps  for  the  first  time 
in  the  history  of  America,  to  have  given  a 
classic  to  the  language. 


28 
A    glance    still   briefer    at    Mr.    Webster's 

O 

achievements  in  the  field  of  diplomacy.  They 
contributed  very  greatly  to  extend  his  European 
fame,  and  certainly  rank  among  his  highest 
claims  to  the  gratitude  of  his  own  country. 
The  announcement  of  his  death  will  come  home 
with  great  additional  effect  to  Americans  who 
are  now  travelling  abroad ;  for  they  have  felt, 
as  they  tell  us,  that  his  name  ever  surrounded 
them  as  with  a  guard  of  protection  and  of  honor. 
His  correspondence  with  the  English  Envoy  in 
1842,  not  only  shed  vast  light  upon  the  law  of 
nations,  and  affords  a  sublime  illustration  of  the 
compass  and  divinity  of  human  reason;  but 
they  cleared  up  many  difficulties  between  the 
United  States  and  England,  which  at  inter- 
vals for  half  a  century,  had  threatened  to 
involve  these  countries  in  all  the  horrors  of  war. 
They  were  settled  by  this  great  son  of  peace, 
satisfactorily,  and  forever;  without  war,  and 
without  dishonor.  And  it  may  be  urged  with 
justice,  that  the  papers  which  at  that  time  ema- 
nated from  the  Secretary  of  State,  contributed 
greatly  to  inaugurate  a  new  era  in  the  inter- 
course of  nations.  They  impressed  upon  the 
general  heart  of  the  world,  what  Richelieu 


29 

utters  in  handing  his   weapon  of  war   to  his 
page: 

"  Take  away  the  sword — 
States  can  be  saved  without  it .'" 

It  has  come  to  be  a  very  frequent  remark, 
"  What  a  pity  our  greatest  men  cannot  be  Presi- 
dent;" and  surely  there  never  has  been  more 
occasion  for  regret  than  in  the  case  of  Webster. 
What  a  superb  piece  of  rhetoric  would  it  have 
been,  what  a  feast,  what  a  banquet  of  reason, 
and  with  what  a  glow  of  patriotic  pride  would 
every  American  have  perused  his  inaugural 
address.  What  annual  messages  would  have 
illustrated  the  policy,  and  enriched  the  litera- 
ture of  the  country.  What  dignity,  what 
strength,  what  splendor  in  his  administration. 
The  Presidential  chair  would  have  borrowed 
lustre  from  the  talents  and  the  fame  of  such  an 
incumbent.  For  the  first  time  since  the  line  of 
Revolutionary  Presidents,  the  highest  office  in 
the  nation  would  have  been  adorned  with  its 
highest  statesmanship.  The  Union,  the  Consti- 
tution, Peace,  and  every  great  interest  of  peace, 
would  have  smiled  secure  under  a  ruler  at  once 
so  wise,  so  mild,  so  firm.  There  are  many  per- 
sons present,  differing  from  him  on  questions  of 


30 

public  interest,  who  would  not  have  voted  for 
him ;  but  there  is  no  one  in  this  audience,  there 
is  no  one  in  this  Republic,  who  would  not  have 
contemplated  with  proud  emotion,  institutions 
which  could  first  produce  such  a  citizen,  and 
then  give  him  his  place  according  to  the  speci- 
fic gravity  of  nature. 

Such  would  have  been  the  general  feeling  at 
home.  While  abroad,  and  among  foreign  pow- 
ers, as  it  was  said  of  Washington,  it  is  not  pro- 
bable that  any  prince  or  potentate  of  his  day, 
would  have  commanded  more  respect  and  con- 
sideration. Throned  emperors  and  kings  would 
have  read  in  this  grand  embodiment,  all  the 
elements  that  mould  up  our  conception  of  a  con- 
summate magistrate : 

"  And  by  these  claim  their  greatness,  not  by  blood." 

It  is  usual  to  say  on  such  occasions  that  the  Pre- 
sidency could  have  added  nothing  to  his  fame. 
Such  a  reflection  may  possibly  be  of  some  solace 
to  afflicted  feeling,  but  it  certainly  will  not  stand 
the  test  of  logical  analysis.  Mr.  Webster,  it  is 
true,  was  a  more  eminent  man  than  any  Presi- 
dent of  his  day ;  indeed  the  Secretaries  of  State 
for  many  years,  form  a  more  distinguished  line 
of  Statesmen  than  the  Presidents.  Still  the 


31 

highest  post  in  the  government  would  have 
made  even  Webster's  talents  more  conspicu- 
ous. "Pyramids  are  pyramids  in  vales."  Doubt- 
less; yet  however  great  the  structure,  it  is 
imposing  in  proportion  to  the  elevation  of  its 
site.  Mr.  Webster,  nevertheless,  amassed  a  repu- 
tation on  so  huge  a  scale,  that  any  such  regrets 
on  his  account  are  almost  unconscionable.  Five 
million  votes,  fifty  million  votes,  could  not  have 
done  for  him,  what  he  did  for  himself.  The 
truth  is,  that  regrets  of  this  kind,  and  indeed 
this  whole  aggregate  of  sorrow,  spreading  the 
Commonwealth  as  with  a  pall,  is  not  for  the 
dead,  but  for  the  living.  And  I,  the  humblest 
of  all  my  fellow-citizens, — lifted  into  notice  but 
for  an  hour  by  this  sad  occasion,  and  soon  to 
return  as  is  my  wont,  to  the  pursuits  of  retire- 
ment— with  no  title  to  consideration,  save  as  I 
utter  the  words  of  truth — the  least  of  all  priests 
in  this  vast  service  of  the  grave ;  yet  as  such, 
possessing  the  ear  of  the  congregation  assem- 
bled— I  assume  to  summon  the  American  com- 
munity into  the  forum  of  its  own  conscience.  I 
arraign  it  before  the  bar  of  the  world.  I  anti- 
cipate the  verdict  of  posterity.  Ye  who  have 
ears  to  hear,  and  hearts  to  understand,  incline  to 


32 

what  I  say,  for  I  speak  no  idle  words.  Hearken 
to  the  judgment  of  your  children,  and  your  chil- 
dren's children,  to  be  affirmed  by  every  succeed- 
ing age.  And  this  it  is:  That  in  withholding 
from  one  who  partook  so  largely  of  the  spirit, 
and  the  wisdom,  and  the  patriotism  of  Washing- 
ton, the  highest  power  for  good  which  the  Con- 
stitution entrusts  to  a  single  citizen, — A  duty 
has  not  been  performed.  A  work  of  patriotism  has 
not  been  completed. 

Friends  and  fellow-citizens :  If  such  thoughts 
afflict  us  with  compunctious  visitings,  and  full 
well  I  know  they  do,  let  us  remember  that  they 
are  of  use  only  as  they  beget  resolutions  for  the 
future.  For  the  past,  they  are  unavailing. 
Daniel  Webster,  is  no  longer  among  the  living. 
The  glory  of  the  Forum,  the  chief  of  the  Senate, 
the  mighty  minister,  great  man  of  language, 

"  Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  to  all  thy  greatness  !" 

That  drama  of  vigorous  heroism  is  closed.  On 
a  stage,  not  darkened,  but  rather  of  heightened 
splendor,  the  curtain  has  fallen.  Not  as  the 
ordinary  great ;  nor  yet  as  Socrates,  like  a  philo- 
sopher ;  but  with  the  sublimer  exit  of  a  Chris- 
tian, he  has  gone  from  our  sight  forever.  Oh, 
if  this  were  not  the  solemn  fact — if  vou  had  but 


33 

just  awakened  from  sleep — if  you  were  assured 
that  these  impressions  of  death  at  Marshfield,  of 
the  ensign  of  the  Republic  everywhere  in  crape, 
of  ten  thousand  men  at  a  private  funeral ;  that 
these  were  not  reality,  but  only  the  dismal 
fancies  of  a  dream, — that  instead  of  being  in  his 
grave,  Daniel  Webster  was  still  at  his  post,  as  a 
faithful  sentinel  on  the  watch-towers  of  Liberty 
— if  you  could  hear  there  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night  his  veteran  footstep — especially  if  you 
should  ask  as  was  our  wont  in  a  moment  of 
fear,  "  Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ?"  and  your 
ear  should  suddenly  be  greeted  with  those  grand 
old  tones,  so  full,  resonant  and  joyous — All's 
well,  all's  well," — Oh !  how  this  whole  auditory 
would  start  to  its  feet;  and  what  a  burst  of 
transport  would  shake  this  solid  building  to  its 
base !  But  alas,  these  tears  we  are  shedding, 
they  are  not  the  tears  of  joy,  but  of  grief.  And 
what  event  but  the  death  of  Webster,  could 
have  drawn  from  us  so  many  ?  Had  each  of  us 
lost  his  father,  the  stroke  could  hardly  have 
fallen  with  more  subduing  effect.  Why,  here 
we  touch  the  secret — We  have  lost  the  second 
Father  of  his  Country.  God  in  heaven,  be  thou 
the  father  of  an  orphaned  people ! 


When  in  July,  two  years  ago,  death  removed 
an  incumbent  of  the  Executive,  so  strong  in  the 
confidence  of  his  countrymen,  you  well  remem- 
ber how  bitter  and  how  universal  was  the  sense 
of  bereavement.  It  is  no  disparagement  to  say 
that  his  great  office  was  worthily  supplied  by 
his  immediate  successor.  What  too  often  had 
been  only  an  ingenious  stroke  of  flattery,  might 
have  been  quoted  in  this  instance  of  accession, 
with  honesty  and  truth  : 

"  Sol  occubuit ;  nox  nulla  secuta  est."  * 

But  now,  ere  yon  moon  had  four  times  filled 
her  horn,  we  are  called  upon  to  suffer  the  double 
eclipse  of  Clay  and  Webster.  In  lesser  lights 
indeed  the  horizon  is  not  wanting.  And  such  is 
the  tried  prudence  of  the  people  themselves, 
and  such,  if  they  avail  themselves  of  it,  the 
reflected  radience  of  luminaries  no  longer  seen, 
that  I  do  not  say  they  will  stumble  and  fall. 
But  alas,  alas  !  how  long  may  we  have  to  await 
the  appearance  again  of  two  orbs  of  such  mag- 
nitude and  splendor,  to  fill  our  hearts  with  joy 
and  our  country  with  glory ! 

I  know  indeed  the  last  accents  of  his  lips — 
"  I  still  live ;"  and  I  have  marked  with  sensi- 

*  "  The  sun  set ;  bm  no  night  followed." 


35 

bility  the  eagerness  of  the  nation  to  extract 
from  them  something  to  solace  its  smitten  feel- 
ings. Already  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  it  was  in  his  mind  only,  that  the  soul  had 
not  yet  glided  from  the  shore  of  its  mortality. 
In  that  solemn  instant,  it  was  farthest  from  him 
possible  to  indulge  the  thought  of  the  ancient, 
"  vivit  enim,  vivet  que  semper"  Yet  the  bleeding- 
heart  of  the  nation,  so  lonesome  and  desolate,  is 
surely  warranted  in  cherishing  such  a  sentiment. 
All  that  was  mortal  of  Daniel  Webster,  is  indeed 
dead.  In  the  presence  of  a  great  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses, it  was  committed  to  the  sacred  soil  of 
the  Pilgrims.  But  his  words,  his  works,  his 
wisdom ;  the  influence  of  his  example,  patriotism 
and  deeds — these  were  not  so  interred.  Heaven 
vouchsafes  to  a  few  superior  natures  a  life  to 
come,  even  in  this  world.  There  are  those  who 
rule  us  from  their  urns.  Yes, 

"  Thou  art  mighty  yet !" 
Thy  spirit  walks  abroad.'' 

Walk  ever  abroad,  illustrious  shade !  Thy 
counsels  and  precepts  are  engraven  on  our 
memory ;  but  oh,  if  in  the  economy  of  God,  it 
is  allowed  to  exert  a  directer  influence — if 
patriots  who  die  the  death  of  the  righteous  are 


36 

ever  permitted  to  revisit  their  earthly  seats — 
then  ever  venerated  spirit,  infuse  into  thy  coun- 
trymen yet  more  of  thy  prudence,  self-devotion 
and  wisdom ! 

The  older  editions  of  Mr.  Webster's  speeches, 
have  on  the  back  of  the  volume,  a  gold  leaf 
figure  of  the  Capitol  at  Washington.  There  is 
a  fitness  in  this  device.  Consider  how  com- 
pletely identified  are  his  name  and  efforts  with 
that  great  palace  of  the  laws.  With  the  House 
of  Representatives,  the  Chamber  of  the  Senate, 
the  Supreme  Federal  Judicatory,  and  with  the 
wing  in  course  of  erection,  as  orator  at  the  lay- 
ing of  its  corner-stone.  Then  what  an  expan- 
sive spirit  of  patriotism  pervades  those  volumes : 
a  school  of  rhetoric  for  the  nation,  instinct  with 
nationality.  In  this  respect,  indeed,  they  are 
but  the  counterpart  of  his  own  feelings  and 
character.  Party  and  sectional  foes  might 
whisper  suspicion  with  their  lips ;  they  might 
impugn  his  motives;  they  might  wound  his 
honor;  and  yet — who  but  one  of  his  country- 
men would  credit  it ;  and  who  that  is  a  coun- 
tryman disputes  it  ? — it  had  come  to  be  a  piece 
of  the  American  heart  to  believe,  that  Webster 
would  see  that  the  Republic  suffered  no  harm. 


37 

That  not  only  her  interests,  but  her  honor 
and  her  fame  would  come  out  of  the  fiery 
ordeal,  as  he  himself  would  say,  without  the 
sinell  of  fire  upon  her  garments.  You  have 
all  doubtless  met  the  verses  which  represent  a 
captain's  son  on  board  of  a  ship  in  a  terrific 
tempest.  Veteran  sailors  are  in  tears  of  des- 
pair, and  marvelling  at  his  calmness,  they  ask 
the  boy,  "Are  you  not  afraid?"  The  noble 
little  fellow,  a  very  picture  of  surprise,  glancing 
at  the  stern,  asks  his  interrogators,  "  Is  not  my 
father  at  the  helm?"  Such  was  the  abiding  faith 
of  the  nation,  in  this  more  than  Palinurus  of  the 
State.  Whatever  might  be  the  peril,  how  dark 
soever  the  heavens, 

*'  Though  the  strain'd  mast  should  quiver  as  a  reed," 

the  people  still  asked,  if  you  expressed  alarm, 
"Is not  Webster  at  the  helm?" 

Such  was  the  universal  sense  of  his  fidelity 
and  patriotism.  Nor  was  it  over  estimated. 
Love  of  country,  and  of  the  whole  country,  was 
the  ever  present,  and  ever  paramount  passion  of 
his  being;  it  penetrated,  and  pervaded,  and 
engrossed  it.  Applying  the  entire  energies  of 
his  robust,  luminous,  and  comprehensive  intel- 
lect, to  the  high  ministries  of  its  constitution, 


38 

it  was  the  great  mission  of  his  life,  to  defend  and 
expound  it,  to  illustrate  and  hallow.  His  first 
entry  into  public  life  was  in  the  service  of  the 
whole  Union ;  and  the  summons  of  death  found 
him  still  in  its  harness.  No  sooner  had  his  eye 
fallen  on  her  constitution,  than  he  folded  it  to 
his  heart  as  the  first  love  of  his  boyhood ;  and 
the  latest  stroke  of  his  pen,  ere  it  must  be  laid 
down  forever,  attests  his  loyalty  and  devotion. 
And  having  indentified  himself  conspicuously 
with  every  great  interest  at  home,  and  more 
than  any  citizen  of  his  time,  enhanced  her  repu- 
tation abroad;  in  age,  as  in  manhood,  and  in 
youth,  still  earlier  than  the  sun  in  toiling  for  her 
glory ;  having  thus  exhausted  his  strength,  his 
spirit,  and  his  life,  in  the  service  of  the  country 
at  large ;  he  bequeathed  at  his  death,  to  every 
American  citizen,  to  every  several  man,  in  one 
massive  and  sumptuous  assemblage,  the  rich 
inheritance  of  his  name,  his  works,  his  example 
and  renown. 

I  am  afraid  it  is  one  of  the  solemn  lessons 
of  history  that  unto  all  states,  as  to  men,  it  is 
appointed  once  to  die.  Certainly  none  now  in 
existence  gives  more  vigorous  promise  than  that 
of  England.  And  yet  her  eloquent  historian 


has  permitted  himself  to  anticipate  a  time  when 
some  traveller  from  New  Zealand  shall,  in  the 
midst  of  a  vast  solitude,  take  his  stand  on  a  bro- 
ken arch  of  London  bridge,  to  sketch  the  ruins 
of  St.  Paul's.  It  is  the  most  earnest  prayer  of 
every  heart  before  me  that  the  people  may  prove 
themselves  so  intelligent,  virtuous  and  prudent, 
that  the  Capitol  of  the  American  Republic  will 
stand  forever.  This,  my  friends,  at  least  is 
sure ;  that  while  that  great  temple  of  Freedom 
does  stand,  it  shall  be  as  one  vast  Cenotaph  to 
Webster.  And  as  a  sight  of  that  hallowed 
dome,  shall  first  recall  to  the  beholder  the  mem- 
ory of  Webster;  so  shall  come  first  to  his  lip, 
the  epitaph  now  on  the  general  heart  of  the 
nation :  WELL  DONE,  GOOD  AND  FAITHFUL  SERVANT. 


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